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SCOTTISH
PASTORALS,
I
WOEMS, SONGS, ^c.
MOSTLY WRiTTEifl IN TH£
DIALECT OF THE SOUTH;
By JAME^S HOGa
i
EDINBURGH:
PillNTED BY JOHN TAYLOR, GRASSMARKET.
1 801/1
!l^ricc Oiie= Shilling^
ix' i.: . ■
1 V
I * . ""^ Digitized by Google
Entered in Stationer* s Hall.
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T
' CONTENTS.
, Page.
Geordie Fa^s Dirge - - e - - - 5
Dujiy ; or Watte and Geordie' s review of
politics ---- ,----8
WilUe and Keatie ------25
A Dialogue in a country Church Tard - 38
The peatb of Sir- Niel Stuart and Donald '
MVane, Efq. ------- 49
Song I. - r " . 56
Song II. - _ - _ 59
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ERRATA.
Page 22* line 8. for Stogihaw read Staggiha?r
i6. for ztl read o*
41. 6t for lawn read tOffx^
15. for climb read fpcci
42. I. for balm r^^ hand
4. for vifion rW vifions.
Ah 7- y^^ fl?akc read fjpokc
47' '9* ^ P^^ ^^^ P^^^
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■ r ■ ■ ii j iTvr^ " ' ":* **
GEORDIE FA's DIRGE.
BAITH ^uld an' young come join wi* me ;
Come greet as if ye'd loft a plea ;
Come {hake your head, an' whinge, an' claWj^
An' mum the death of Geordie Fa.
Auld 'oneft, hearty, jocun' carle!
Withbut a gr^ne he left the warl' :
Death in a twinklin' quite bereft us
O' a' our joy, whan Geordie left us.
He was mair trw thaii ony Roman ;
Was lov'd by all, at^d fear'd by no man ;
The rich did woo, the poor did blcfs hirti ;
But now he's dead, and fair we'll mifs him.
For him my heart is nnco fair^
O' a' his fangs I gat a fhare ;
Nae mair I'll hear him play, wi' (kill,
The Soger's Joy, nor Butcher's Reel,
Nor owr the Muir s^nang the Heather,
Nor Marlon's Ewe p — t owr the tether.
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Thc'fiddle now may lie untun'd,
While I at Highland Donald croon'd.
Or try to ftep the College horn-pipe,
She fkirles like a laddie's corn-pipe.
For tales, an' tunes, and merry fangs,
For brcedin' toops, and fattin' lambs,
H4s like ne'er dwalt in town or city ;
But now he's dead, an' that's a pity^
He was a wannle, fturdy man,
Wi' vigour at the baa he ran ;
When he was ftrippit to the {ark,
Amang them a' was ane as ftark.
When lucklefs collies came afore him.
He didna Hand to curfe and fliare 'em.
But ftrak them till they ran an' yelpit ;
Put Etow he's dead, an' whae can help it.
Langfyne, whan rebels fang'd at pleafure,
He did a deed was wordy Caefar ;
Arm'd wi' a pleugh-rftaflf, fer out-bye,
Twa men wi' fwords, he gart them lie.
His doughty deeds on Annan river,
What fifli he kill'd, whan young and clever,
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How deep their ribs, how lang their meafufe;
I oft hae heard him tell .wi' pleafure.
What paetricks at a fhot he grundit,
What cocks he kill'd, what hares he hundit,
Was aft his theme, and aye his pleafure.
Tho' braw an' rich, he was nae mifer :
Nae cares had he about to-morrow ;
But now he's dead, an' that's a forrow;.
Yc poachers now fcour tip your guns ;
Ye fifhers try wha fafteft runs ;
The muirs an' ilreams will fport afford ye;
Their harmlefs tenants live for Geordie;
On days whan he was young an' keen,
In vain yc watch'd the curlin' ftream ;
In fpite o' ye a', wi' inuckle pride,
He haul'd his fa'mon to the fide.
Oft hae J flood hale days to fee him ;
But now he's dead, an' peace be wi' him.
He was weel wordy imitation ;
A man mair ufefu' in his fiation
He fcarce has left. Whatever rank
Chance plac'd him in, he flill was frank.
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Wi' beggarSj fodgers, merchants, taiflors,
Ev*n wi' the warft o^ broken failors^
He wad hae crlekit hale fdrenoond,
An' play'd theiti half a fcore o* tubes.
Wi' a phiiofopher or poet,
The way they took, Was fond to knoW it j
An' wi' the rich he kept decorum ;
But now he's dead, an' waes me for hiiti;
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DUSTY,
Watie an* gjsordie's review of politics;
An ECLOGUE.
VJN June, the year, nor lefs nor mae
Than eighteen hunder a* but twae,
Foinent a brig kid owr a pool,
A wee bit frae the parifh fcool.
Upon a brae baith dry and clean,
Twae 'oneft lads fat down to lean.
And haud the following converfation
About th' affeirs o' their ain nation.
Geordic looked fowr and difcontentit,
While Watie thus his wonder ventit :
B
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lo
Watu.
I wonder, Geordie, what's the matter,
I never faw a douther creature j
Tho' twice a day this while Fve met Wye,
A heartfome crack I nc*er can get w'ye ;
When I wad fain divert an' pleafe ye,
In trouth you nouther hear nor fees me ;
Thy thoughts are wandering, L-— d knows whi-
ther,
An' what upon, for I ken neither.
Caft roun' your een on ilk thing near ye,
See, ilka thing combines to cheer ye ;
Your friends are weel, your wages gude,
What then keeps ^p this dowie mude ?
Come, tell me man, is Nelly faithlefs ?
Or is Ihe turhin' round an' breathlefs ?
Tve nought like that my heart to grieve j
My Nelly's true, and I believe
Her free frae ony man on earth.
This day, as that whilk gaie her birth:
But how can I be blythe, while viewin'
My dear dear country gaun to ruin ?
Wade.
Hey, mafter patriot ! now I fmokc ye,
An', on my faul, right fain wad 'nock yc,
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II
For mindin things o* fie a nature ;
But let us argue out the matter.
Shew me the figns o' Britain's ruin,
An* wh^'is the i^aufe o* her undoin\
Qfordie.
Alas! a cloud o' wrath hangs owr us,
Keady to ]^urft an' quite devour us.
Our fathers truth for error barters,
An' fhed the blude o' fants an' martyr's.
Their fons are fae degen'rate grown.
That ilka thing's tum'd upfide down.
Religion's grown a laughing flock,
A butt for fools whereat to mock,
An ugly thing, that, anes detedit.
The owner o't is ay fufpedht.
The ither day, yrhen at the mill,
I heard ane thus defciibin' Will :
" I own he is a man o' wit,
** And on fome exc'Uent fchenies has hit ;
*' His wants we fbw, his wealth prodigious,
*' But, rot his heart ! he's damn'd relig'ousr
The gude commands* that fude dired us,
An', war they keepit, might proted us,
J' our bleft days, ir nae mair takin',
1'han Britiih laws to favc a maukin ;
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An', for the fe^enth, keep it we wad,
If it required what it forbade ;
For you, and idle dinners like you,
Count lefs o' yon than man an' wife do.
A fcourge then for this guilty land !
Nor can the time be fer frac hand ;
Its faireft flow'r already fading
As was foretold by Welch an' Peden.
Watie.
Faith, leave the plowmen, join the tent ane$,
And unto finners preach repentance ;
For I can guefs, frae this oration,
Ye'rc join'd that headflrqng, dull perfwaliqn ]^
But a' your Camcronian rants,
'Bout folemn leagues an' covenants,
' 'Bout kings, an' laws, and conftitutions,
Supremacy an' pcrfecutions.,
S'al never keep me frae infiftin' ;
On our laws bein' the beft exiftin'.
Nor are we jull fae fair abandon'd,
As you appear to underftand it ;
We've mair to fhew of pious zeal *
Than ony age that's paft a deal ;
What think ye o' fic contributioi;^,
For biggin fhips an' fendm' miflioiis,
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'3
To mak the goipcl light to ftiine
I' nations fer ayont the line ?
Our gentry, too, hae fign'd a letter,
Whilk binds' to keep the Sabbath better,
Geprdie.
That bond, I fear, they'll keep but ill j .
For fen they paft the Papiih bill,
Frae ae naifchief they've run t'nother,
An' neer had luck i' ane nor other.
E'en at this time, nae fether gane,
Our allies leave us ane by ane ;
An' waur than that, our faes they join,
To pay us hame i' our ain coin.
Fo'ks een are open'd now, they fee
The French deiign them liberty ;
By makin' laws which fo'ks admire.
They've won mair than by fword an' fire.
Watie.
Fo?ks een are open'd now, 'tis true ;
But 'tis owr late^ when, frae their view,
Fair Liberty's entirely vanifli'd ;
Frae States, where ance ador'd, (he's banifti'd.
The French, my friend, are kittle mafters, ^
Likewife the caufe o' fair difafters ;
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I
4
^hae clfc can ony body blame
For this rebellion here at hame.
What glory if, by Britifh thunder,
Thefe haughty knaves cou'd be brought under '^
Then a the filly dogs aroun' them,
Whae, courin*, Ipt them tramp aboon them,
Tho' forc'd, e*en now, theif rage to bury,
Wad tijfti an* bite wi,' double fury.
Thus, when th' impetuous Prince o' Sweden^
Thro* Saxony in blude came waedin.
For mony year nae force cude ftand him,
Whae ever try'd, their mafter fknd him ;
Europe, embroiPd in blpody quarrels.
Stood trembling at the name of Charles ;
Ilk pow'r aroimd to friendfliip preft him.
The proud did ftoop, the brave careft him.
But mark how foon they changed their minds^
'Vy^hen he to Bender was confined.
When muckle Pate, wi* delp'rate fuffle,
Had at Poltowa won the fcuffle,
And crufht the braveft band o' men
That Europe e'er will hoaft again ,
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15
Then all around the Swedes dominions,
Forgetting former tics and miions,
On him turned a' their arms anon,
'Til a* his richeft lands were won :
Juft fae great France wad foon be guidit.
Could Britain anes but lair the pride o't.
I own, like Amos, Tm nae prophet.
Yet on this head fome notes TU forfeit,
Who lives to fee a few Decembers,
Will fee this mqnfter lofin' members.
. Geordie.
Faith, lofe they, win they, I'm indifTrent ;
For come they, bide they, we've a liferent
O flav'ry o' the hardeft kind,
Whilk has fae rous'd the public mind.
That, but for armies almaift countlefs,
Might gar our proud oppreflbrs vaunt lefs.
When firft this war i' France began,
Our blades bude hae a meddlin' hand ;
Their raifin' men for't rais'd the cefles,
Whilk raised our difcontents and ftrefles ;
Our grumblin' reachin' fome fo'ks ears,
Of hameil brulies raised their fears ;
Mae men they rais'd, and will perfwade us, -
The French ir comin' to invade us ;
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.1^
But whether ever- they defign'd it*
\Vi* a* my airt I ne'er <jan find yet ;,
Yet this I think, they -11 gain their airrii
By threatening us afar thr6* time;
Sic heaps o' men to cleed and pay,
"Will brik the King, or breed a fray;
For if they raife the taxes higher.
They'll fet alunt that fmooftin' firfe,
Whilk ilka feflion helps to beet,
An', when it burns, they'll get a heat; -
The weft fide elfe hath gi'cn a bleeze,
I mean the lads on Leinfter lees ;
Whac rather chufe to die wi' brav'ry,
Than grane out life in downright flav'ry.
Wattes
O Geordie, man ! I'm wae to hear ye ;
I like ye, elfe I cou'dna bear w' ye :
The taxes true, hae got a ftretch.
Yet few ava to poor fo'k reach.
Thefe curfed notions you've imbibit,
Hae made your look — I can't defcribe it. —
Your cheeks are thin, your colour fallow/ .
The very white o'y'r een's turn'd yellow ; \
Your brows hang down at ilka comer.
And knit like ony ancient mourner j
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17
YouVe got a weary* length of face,
Wi' mouth as wide as Sandy Rae's ;
Your claes ir flrangely out pf order,
Your hat has nouther*ftring nor border;
Ye're gajin withouten fhoon or boots.
But florpin loags about your coots.
They've banifli'd frae your mind content,
The greateft bUfs that heav'n has lent. •
I fee the flem that feeds your fever,
Yet foon, I hope, the root will wither ;
I ken that, frankit by Lord Napier,
Ilk week you read^ the Kelfo paper.
Geordie.
Well, what o' that ? poor Jamie's He'd on,
But telhia me o'-poor fo'ks freedom;
If ane efcape the taxes a'.
Then that fame ane has nought ava :
Our hats,^ our claes, our drink, our meat,
Our fnuff, our baca, fhoon o'ur feet.
Our candles, watches, horfes, even
The very blefled light o' heaven ;
Our dogs — but now, for want o' patience,
How I cou'd curfe the vile taxations—-
C
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Thou wert my friend, poor 'oneft Dusty,
A faithful fervant, true and trufty ;
My fate an' me thou followed aftir,
Thro' froft an' fnaw, thro' fire an' water :
But thou'rt rewarded gratefully, \
Hang'd like ia thief outowr a ttee !
That plaguy Pitt ! cude I yoke wi' him,
The lofs q' thee I might forgie him.
Watie.
That tax on dogs is right mifchievous.
On highland fo'k 'tis vaftly grievous,
Geordie,
Wh^t !: lad ir ye fae foon forgettin',
That ^ane on yirth hae l^ws like Britain ?
Watte.
Weel man, I dinna grudge, th9' dear,
I pay twall fhillin's ilka year,
An' wad gic mair wi' a my heart,
Wad ilka ane contribute part.
The nation's rich ; if a were willin'
The King might ne'er be aun a ihillin'^
His debt's become a cant right common j
The debt is our's, he's aun to no man.
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19 .
When ye come next wi' corn to Johny,
On this brae fide PU wait upon ye ;
An' then I'll baith convince you fairly
That governnvent has afted fquarely,
An' that our Britifti helm's confidit
To hands that unco weel can guide it ^
An' when we reach the mill I'll treat ye
Wi' a' their healths iu acquavitty.
Geordie.
I canna do't, their names difguft me,.
An' gar me mind my heartfome Dufty ;
Yet their defence I'll gladly hear,
Wad they mak peace within a year.
An' mak the taxes fomewhat leucher,
I'd rather fee't than farm the Deuchar.
I wifh as unueh for peace as ye do,
Tho' little ill the war I fee do ;
In gen'ral ilka thrifty man .
Is richer than when it began;
Wi' faes we ne'er had fie a tilt,
In which Jefs Britifi^.blude was fj^ilt ;
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. 2° .
I
Quite mafters o' the fea they fiiid us,
An' heavy ncibers i' the Indies,
But man 'tis queer to mak fie fikc
About an ufelefs gauffin tike ;
That ne'er cude gie a decent turn
At Iheddin', fauldin', bought, nor burn ;
But ran wi' inconfid'r&te force,
An' bate their heels as they'd been horfe.
I never thought, for a' your rufe.
That e'er he » was for muckie ufe.
Except for drivin' nout to fairs.
Or riimin' whinkin' after hares.
But if ye faw that ye wad need him,
Five fhillins yearly wad hae freed him,
Gtordie.
I never faW a finer bcafl:.
Sin' I cou'd ken the wefl: frae^afl: ;
But yet a crown was unco fair
On ane that cou'd fae Uttle fpdre ; .
For a the wage? e'er I won
Can fcarcely keep my head aboon :
But I bude either flit or flay him.
For nae man off my hand wad hac him ;
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21
I didna like to ilit, for fear
I might have idle lien a year ; •
My friends war poor,.an' had nae need
That I fude hang on them for breads
Sae was I forc'd, tho' vext and anger'd,
T(>gie confent; to hae him hanged.
He had fome profped o' the deed,
For back he drew, and wadna lead.
His looks to me, FU ne'er forget them,
* Nae doubt he lookit for pfotedion. ;
While I, unfeeling as the tree,
Stood ftill, an' faw him hung on hie.
At firft he fpurr'd, an' fell a booking,
Then gollar'd, piflit, and juft was choaking:
Deil tak the King, an' bum his crown,
Quoth I, an' ran to cut him down ;
When, poor, unlucky, fenfelefs brute !
(Afore I never faw him do't)
He bate me till the blude did fpring ;
Confus'd an' hurt, I loot him hing
Owr lang for Ufe ; for on the green
He fprawl'd to death before my een.
I really felt extrodner pain ;
I kend we ne'er wad meet again.
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22
I grat for grief, his death to fee
Whae aft had ventured life for me :
For ay when I wi' ane had grips,
He ran an^ bit their heels or hips ;
An' when I warftled wi' the women.
He tugg'd their jails, an' held them fcream^n^
Laft year he play'd a defp'rate prank,
When gaun wi' me to Stogfliaw-bank :
I wi' a man, that houn'd our hogs,
Kooffout an' feught, fae did our dogs ;
I own I was but roughly guidit,^
Nor was the quarrel weel decidet ;
But .ere we ceas'd frae rough contention.
The Saxon's dog was pall redemption.
When weazels fnirtit frae the dykes.
Or Yumerts frae the braes an' fykes,
He cock'd his tail, an' geed his head,
O' fcores o' them he was the dead.
Nae beaft on yirth cude hae defy'd him ;
If I had faid the word, he try'd him.
But yet for a' his grtiefome dealins'j^
He was a dog o' teuder feelin's ;
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2j •
When I lay iick an' like to die,
He watch'd me wi* a conftant 6ye ;
An' then when e'er I fpak' or fturr'd.
He wagg'd his tail, an' whing'd,,an nurr'd-
When faams were fung at any meetin%
He yawl'd, an' thought the fock war g^eetin'.
For wearin' corn of hens an qocks,
For huntin' o' the hare or fox,
For chafin' cats, an' craws, an' hoodies,.
An' Qhackin mice, an' howkin rnoudies.
An' fettin moorfowl, fnipes, an' petrics.
His match was never made for thae tricks.
But now, poor beaft, he's dead an' rotten.
An* his good deeds are a' forgotten.
Watie.
I ken what grief I felt myfeP
In partin' wi' my auld Springkell ;
I wadna been as muckle troubled
For a' his value ten timps doubl'd,
Geordie.
But night draws on, and Pm to meet
My Nelly up on Annan's treat.
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24.
Be o' our cracks a wee difcreeter^
For Hogg pits a' we £ay to meter.
Fare-weel ; I hope ere lang to fee thee : —
Watie.
Fare-weel ; fuccefs an* joy gang w? thee.
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25
WtLLIE AN' KEATIE,
-' A PASTORAL:
Don't you fee yon lofty mountain,
Where tbe wanton lambies play,
Round an' round th€ cryftal fountain,
Springin' frae the funny brae.
Round its fuminirs, beat wi' weather,
See, it wears a purple crown,
Made o' bonny bloomin' heather.
Beauties wild, but Nature's own !
There the mountain daifies blolTom ;
There the tender violets bloom ;
There the thyme, fpread on its bofom,
Fills the air with fweet perfume.
1)
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How romantic is the profped !
Down below there winds a lake,
Where are fifhes bred an' fofter'd;
So are fowls that haunt the brake.
There the cunning foxie, hiding, .
Mocks his cruel hunter's rage ;
Hawks and ravens, there refiding.
In perpetual wars engage.
From thefe rugged profpedls turn ye ;
Mark yon rauntree fpreading wide,
Where the clear, but noify burnie
Rufhcs down the mountain's fide*
There a lovely bloomin' ihepherd
Every day a while reclin'd.
There, in accents foft, related
Thus, his love an' tortijr'd mind.
*' Pity me, yc tender lovers !
You can guefs at what I bear ;
Once carefs'd, but now another
Has her heart, to me fae dear.
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27
^' When I firft beheld my Keatie,
I forgot to hear or fee ;
A' the girls I prized lately
Ne'er were minded mair by me.
*' Hame I came, but took nae dinner,
Went to bed, but fleepit nane ;
Young, an' blate, an' quite a ftranger,
What to do I didna ken.
** Ten lang days I thought upon her.
Quite depriv'd o' peace an' reft ;
Findin' I cude bruik nae langer,
I refolv'd to do my beft.
^' Now my yellow hair I plaited,
Gae my downy chin a Ihave,
Thrice my tales of love repeated,
* Fear in' I would milbehavc. * <
*' Far away I took my journey,
Left our hills fae high an' green,
Thro' a pleafant fertile country.
Which \ ne'er before had feen.
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28,
'' Here we're charm'd \vi' works o' Nature,
Craggy cliffy an' lonely glen ;
There I oft flood like a ftatue,
Wond'ring at the works o' men.
" Verdant paftures, gran^ inclofures,
Thriyin' woods, an' iDuildins liew,
IJale hill lides fawn up wi' clover,
Ev'ry where arofe in view,
*' Lang I gaed, and kendna whither.
Struck wi' ilka thing I faW,
Where yon little windin' river
Murmers owr the ftanes fae fma\
*' Phebus, now in all his glory.
Sunk into the weftern main j
Frae his labour, foft an' flowly,
Hameward trudg'd the weary fwain.
*' Nature, Freed frae her auld |,over
Roughfome Winter, gaunt and lear\ ;
Spring; to charm, whafe a-irs had mov'd her,
Rob'd herfelf in chearful green.'
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2^
" A' their little feather'd tenants
Sweetly fung on ilka triee ;
Lads an' laffes, wiveS an' callarits,
A' war gay but Ibiiely me,
<* Walkin' thro' the elms fae ftately,
Thinkin' oii the iftep Td ta'tri,
There I met rhy bonny Keaty,
Comin' thro' the wood her lane.
-'* FcarM ah' fond, when I approach'd her^
HoW riiy heart began to beat !
But I viehtur'd to accoft her,
Afkin' where fhe gaed fae late ?
" Wi' a fiiiile, that quite bewitch'd me,
She retam'd, " What^s that to thee?
** Ere you rfedch the town that's next ye,
" Lad, ye'll be as late ds itie."
** Mony queftion I fpeer'd kt her,
Mony aiie t kehd fu' weel.
If an inn ftood on the water.
Where a ftranger wad get biel ?
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3°
'' Where flie liv'd, an' wha^ they ca'4 her,
Father's name an' raotljer's top,
Ilka burn an* il]c£^ water.
Ilka houfe within Qur view,
** Lang we flood amang the timber,
Frae vac IJie could nqyer win ;
Now the fterns beg^in to glimmer,
Drowfy Twilight clofs'd his een.
^' Shepherd," faid flie, '' I wad tlj^nk ye^
'' Wa4 ye turn a,n' fet me hame ;
*^ Ghaifts an' witches are fae plenty,
" I'm afraid to gang my lane,
** When we reach my father's dwellin',^
'' Ye's hae bed an' fupper free ;
^' They'll requite ye, when I tell them
" How yeVe been fae kind to me,' ■
*' Happy iji the fair ocqafion.
How I bleft her bonny face,
Nor refus'd the invitation,
Prpffer'd me wi' lie a grace..
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3t
** Hand in hand, away we waukit j
She was pleased, an' I was fain j
Thp' on others loves we taukit,
Never durft I name my ain.
** Till We rcaich'd yon willow bulheS,
Pretty bufhes, fv^eet an' green !
How her face o'erfpread wi' blufhes,
Shepherds, O ! had yon but feen.
*/ Think nae fhafne, my bonny Keatie^
" Come fit down an' reft a while y
** I've, in hopes myfel' to get thee,
*' Travell'd mony a weary mile."
" Shepherd, ceafe your vain entreating,
" Here wi' thee I will not ftay ;
" My poor parents will be fretting,
'* I have itaid fae late away.
" Think ye, I'll neglecfl my duty,
'' For a fond an' foolifh boy ;
" Love that's merely rais'd by beauty^
'* Seldom fails in hafte to cloy."
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** Hold, my dpareft, I i^iiplpre thee j
" Hear lyip fwpar jby all abovp-—
" Ere I ceafe for to adore thee,
" Earth no more fhall Jiarhqur love;
" Solway's ftream fliall fwell the Teviot;
" Eilden hilk unite in ane,
** Tweed rin owr the tops o' Cheviot,
'* Berwicjs. ft^nd at Eric ftane.
'* Pity mc, my bpnny laflie ;
'' Come, fit down, an' think nap fliame ?
'* In my bofom let me houfe thpe ;
*' Here ye're fefer than at hame;"
'' Let me firil go eafe my parent? ;
^* When they've feen me iafely home,
*' rU return and prove thofe talents,
" Seemingly fqr flatt'ry fqrm'd."
"* Where the flream, wi' mony a hirni^,
Wimpled thro' the fandy plain.
Willows, loutin, kifs'd thp burjiie.
There I'm left to lie my lane.
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33
^* From yon eaftern fummit bending,
Orions radient circle beams ;
Venus, in the weft defcending,
Flames like light'ning on the ftreams.
** Hail, ye ftars, that o'er me hover !
Hail, ye beaming orbs of light !
Shine propitious on a lover.
Shed your influence here to night !
^' Oft, to ev'ry care unufed.
When the dayJight ceas'd to fliine ;
Oft on you I've gaz'd and mufed ;
Oft ador'd that pow'r divine,
y' Who thofe fluid films, that wheeled
Loofely thro' primaeval night.
By a breath to worlds qongealed ;
Mafles of illuvid light !
*' From his hand then bowl'd you flaming,
Thro' old .dreary Night's domain ;
Order ftraight thro' nature reigning,
Dungeon Darknefs fmil'd ferene>
E
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34
'' Now the joys of contemplation
On fuch things, to me feem nought j
Lovely {he, whofe fweet difcretion
Left me here, pervades each thought*
" Back file came, I kifs'd, I woo'd her,
Row'd her gently in my plaid ;
Where we lay, till Phoebtis fliew'd her
To my eyes the lovelieft maid.
'' E'er me thought the fun arofe on,
When fhe bade me rife an' gang,
Mind my vows, my faith repofe on,
An' come back ere it was lang,
*' Mony letter I fent to her,
Mony raik I gaed myfeP ;
Never was a luckier wooer,
Never lover us'd fo well,
'' Now flie's quite ta'en up wi' Jokey ;-^
Woman, thou'rt a myftery !
What, alas ! was all her motive ?
He was twice as rich as me.
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35
** I had plenty, wi' a bleffing,
Plenty baith for her an' me ;
O my Keatie ! what was miffing ?
Lack of gold has ftartPd thee:
'' Yet, my bonny fmiUin' kffie;
^ Thou art never frae my fight ;
Thou'rt my forrow, joy, an' fancy,
Thought by day, an' dream by night;
** Weel I mind the weeping willow,
Weel I Haind the riggs o' rye,^
Weel the primrofe grove fo yellow.
Often preft by you an' I.
" Fare-ye-wcel, my bonny Keatie;
Happy ever may you be ;
Live to love the lad that gets ye ;
Never fpend a thought on me.
** If I die, I die wi' pleafure ; *
If I live; I'll live in pain —
Thee, my deareft, fchiefeft treafure !
Thee I'll never fee again.
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36
*' Mirth and mufic, now I hate ye.j
'Dieu ye fwains an' lafles fair ;
Since I've loft my bonny Keatie,
I can live nor love nae mair,"
Up fpake Jamie, young an' wittie,
"Willie, ye are quite miftaenj
'* A' the love ye bear for Keatie,
" Keatie bears for you again.
** When I faw ye fad an' wae mail,
''la projedt ftraight did try,
*' Faffing for a wond'rous fpae-man,
'' Through the country travelled L
'* Wi' a bonnet, auld an' clout it,
" Silver locks, an' hollow een ;
*' Coat an' cloak, ye wad hae doubtit
*' What had their orig'nal been.
'* Having a their ftories fitted ;
" Bred amang them frae jmy youth ;
*'^ Whatfoever I predided
*' Paft wi' them for gofpel truth*
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37
^' Soon I fand that Keaty lov'd ye^
" Wi' a heart baith true an' leel,
" That flie'd try*d a fcheme to prove ye,
** Happy when ye took it ill.
" Now, Hke you, ftie's fad an^ fretty^
" Frae her cheeks the rofes fly ;
** When I taM her Ihe wad get ye,
" Gladnefs fparkPd in her eye,"
Shepherds, wad ye hear the iflue ?
.Will an' Keat their wiflies prove :
Happy pair ! fure Heav'n will blefs you,
And reward your conftant love.
Conflancy an' perfeverance
Ever will rewarded be j
Tho' I fing't wi' little rev'rence,
Heav'n to their rights will fee.
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38
A DIALOGUE IN A COUNTRY CHURCH-YARD;
1 HE mountain's withered bfow Ibok'd warij
Chill flew the blaft the braes between,
iSwift o'er the lake the eddies ran,
And loud and harfh rolPd on the flreanii
Dim fwept the fhow'r alongft the vale,
The mifty vale of verdure bare ;
And low and mournful, in the gale^
GriePs heavy accents load the air.
The day had dawn'd, the morning paft.
That facred day to Chriftians dear j
The morning bell had toil'd, and fall
The hour of public praife drew near.
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39
When by a tomb two fwains did meet^
And thus fad Nicolas began ;
Wild were his looks, down Cdlin's cheek
The dews of heart-felt forrow ran.
Nicholas,
AV^hat do I fee ! what fad event
Hath chang'd the fwains of Ettrick now ?
The native air of fweet content
Is fled, and grief broods on each brow.
From home, a weary length of way,
I've trode to day, in hopes to find
Some comfort, or fome fweet allay
Of horrors which opprefs my mind.
But no one hee4s me : all intent
On grief, relate fome difmal tale y
Elfe o'er a grave or monument
Hang folitary, and bewaiL
Of what difaller dire they've learn'd.
Declare, dear fliepherd, if you know ;
pf Nature's exit, tho' forwarn'd,
What lamentations more could flow ?
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40
Colin J
Oh ! Nicholas, their grief is real ;
No feign'd afFeded tears you fee \
Nor is't in vain they thus bewail ;
But what, dear fwain, hath happened thee ?
Nicholas.
That will I tell you, tho' you fcorn
My weaknefs, as indeed you may j
^Twill eafe a* mind quite overborne
By prefages of great difmay.
Laft night, when, funk in deep repofe,
My guardian angel did unveil
Such fcenes — and to my foul difclos'd
What mortal tongue can ne'er reveal;
Upbraid me not — if life and breath
Remain — ere Sol hath Libra gain'd —
I'm not more certain of my death.
Than feeing thefe my dreams explain'd.
Acknowledge, haft thou never yet.
When a6ting fcenes in nature o'er.
An inward recolledion met
Of having view'd the fame before ?
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Nor is it ftrange : Futurity,
Though wrapt in mift, to human ken
Seem fhapelefs ; yet a fpirit's ey^
Some giant features may difcern.
And in the wild and dreary wafle ;
The village fair, or noify lawn,
Wherever fmiles the human face.
There fpirits ikim their airy round,
A guardian friend, his fav'rite charge
May thus of hid event si apprize,
Py great outlines, unfiirl'd at large
In fleep, to Fancy^s lidlefs eyes,
The fim had drop^d beyond the hill,
The welkin topaz blaz'd and died ;
The wat'ry moon began to climb,
With afped cold, the cieling wide.
Our frugal meal, our home, our health.
With gratitude our hearts infpire
To him who gives us all our wealth ;
Him thank'd, to reft we all retire.
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4^
Scarce had the downy bahn of fleep
Begun to prefs my weary eyes,
When howUng wilds, and caverns deep,
In vifion ftrange began to rife.
Me thought a long long journey preft ;
Fond I fet out, with profpeds gay ;
But wants, and woes, and fears increas'd
Ere I had wanderld half my way.
A difmal lake before my fight
Arofe, to which fair paths led on ;
Where oft I faw the headlong wight
Sink, uttVing many a piteous moan.
Thrice, by delufive fweets betray'd,
Into thofe faithlefs roads I ran ;
As oft, by more than mortal aid,
Efcap'd, all fpent with toil and pain-
Grown cautious noW: — whik flow and faint
I wander'd on, by fear compell'd
To gaze around: What tongue can paint
The horrors which I then beheld ? *
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43
O'er caves of death, and dens of woe,
On rocks the blafted forefts hung ; , ,
The owlet and the raven too,
To dancing fatyrs doleful fung.
Near to that awful lake I drew,
Thro' which a paflage ne'er was found ;
Black vapours, hugging billows blue,
In deepeft fhades the profped drown'd,
Alongft its fhores, both high and fteep,
Millions of mortals thoughtlefs play'd ;
Faft, faft they dropt into the deep.
Yet Hill the throng no fear betray 'd.
All bent on trifles, ill enjoy 'd
When onc^ in the purfuer's pow'r j
^ And millions nothing elfe employ 'd
Than pufhing others headlong o'er.
By wither'd roots what objeds hung'!
Eager the fummit to regain : —
Mad hope ! — they fprawl'd, and grafp'd and clung;
Till efforts broke the thread in twain.
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44
Infantile fcreams, and groans, and crieSj
Now mix'd ou ev'ry fide arofe j
Trcitibling I turn'd, and try'd to fly,
But precipieces rUde {^pofe*
Now, on my foul a beam of joy
Began to dawn, with placid fmikj
As thou haft feen the orient dye
Triumph o'er night in fair ApriL
A fwaih I faw, whofe children fair,
Like beauteous plants, around him fprtmg j
For him I heard the fervent pray'r.
For him the wifh of ev'ry tongue.
Pale Mifery and haggard Want,
Evanifh'd quite before his eye ;
I faw a thoufand bofoms pant
With gratitude for. each fupply*
No fliade of ofteiitatious glare
O'er one of. all his adions ran;
No mortal e'er more juftly bare
That nobleft name^ the. friend of man.
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45
Firm were his roots, his branches fair.
No guft his folli*ge e'er could (hake ;
When, lo ! a whirlwind in the air
Arofe, and pluhg'd him in the lake,
** Great God f" I cry'd, and ftarting wokt,
All bath'd and palfy'd ev'ry limb j
'' Great God ! Great God !'' nbught elfe I fpaki^
Till certain what ftate I w«s in.
The clock now ftruck the hotif eleven^
Mild fleep had Ihaded eVfy eye ;
The watchful pallid queen of heaven
Into my cot began to prjr ;
While I, all lick, revolving lay
On what this yifion ftrange could mean^
Till near the dawning of the day
J doz'd again J and thus did dream :
I thought that low, on Yarrow fair,
I ftray'd 'mong flow'rs of ev*ry hue ;
The birds flew warbling thro' the air,
The trees all green with folUage grew.
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46
1 heard a ^roan, and foon perceiv'd
The ground all crimfon'd where I flood ; .
The fwans, that late in filver div'd,
Now moan'd, arid fwam in waves of blood;
I wak'd — but what I then did feel,
Omnifcient King ! thou kno weft beft ;
Had ev'ry thing I faw been real.
Not deeper had they been impreft.
Colin.
What aerial whifper this conveyed,
Thou know'ft, who ftudy'ft natures laws ;
But all thefe fcenes thy fancy ey'd,
Uhweari'd Time hath brought to pafs.
Of human life, thy bloated view,
Did previoufly thy mind prepare
To HIM fubmiflively to bow
Whofe hand the fhafts of fate do bear.
»
We've loft a friend — that tender friend.
That rais'd us both when prefs'd fo low ;
For him thou heard the iigh afcend.
And faw the tear of forrow flow.
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47
pn Yarrow's banks, while found and wholCj^
Crufh^d by a dreadful flroke he lay,
And yielded lip the fweeteft foul
E'er aninaated mould of clay.
Yon fun, that grimly thro' a cloud
Of fnowy vapour feems to frown j
His daily circle hath not rode,
Since he to death's dark fhades went down,
Nicholas.
And is It thus ! — What deep diftrefs
The partner of his breaft muft bear !
Do thou, kind Heav'n, his children blefs.
Nor let the widow's heart defpair.
But my dear Bryden, on thy tomb.
The rofe of gratitude Ihall grow ;
And o'er it, (when I pafs alone)
Long long the tear of love fhall flow.
Farewell, dear man ! thy fpotlefs foul
In heav'nly raptures aye fhall glow ;
And from thy high congenial pale,
Smile at our filly toils below.
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48
But holy vefpers now begun,
Our fwains with heavy fteps retire j
Soon with loud peals the conclave rung^
While all to angels work afpire.
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49
the death of
Sir NIEL STUART,
AND
DONALD M'VANE, Esq.
AN AULD TALE MADE NEW AGAIN,
l^une — joNNY Fa.
On yon fair ifle, beyond Argyle ^
Where flocks and herds are plenty^
Liv'd a rich heir, whofe fifler fair
Was flow'r of all that county.
A kiiight, Sir Niel, had woo'd her lang,
Expeding foon to marry ;
When, a Highland laird his fuit preferred >
Young, handfome, briik, and airy.
She'd lang refpeded brave Sir Niel,
Becaufe he lov'd fincerely ;
But when flie faw the young Glengyle^
He won her heart entirely;
G
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50
But lies of Fame to'r brother came,
How Niel had boafted proudly
Of favours from that lady young,
Which caused him vow thus rudely,
*' I fwear by all our friendfliip paft,
" If I do fee the morning,
'* That knight or me Ihall breathe our laft ;
*' He ftiall know who he's fcorning/*
To meet by th' (hore, where loud waves roar.
In a challange he defy'd him :
Ere the fun was up thefe young men met.
No living creature nigh them.
** What ails, what ails my deareft friendf ?
** Why want you to deftroy me T*
** I want no flatt'ry , bafe Sir Ni^l !
** But draw your fword aad try me."
•' Why fliould I fight with thee, M'Vane?
" Y.ou ne'er have me offend^ ;
'* And whatever I to thee have done,
'* I'll own my fault and mend it/'
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5^
** Is this thy boafled courage, knave !
** Who would not now defpife thee ?
*' But if you ftill refufe to fight
*; ril like a dog chaftife thee,"
" Forbear, fond fool, tempt not thy fate ;
** Do not prefume to ftrike me ;
" RemembeDt, none in fair Scotland
*' Can wield the broad-fword like me."
" CJombin'd with guilt, thy wond'rous fkill
" From vengeance fha'nt defend thee :
** My fitter's wrongs fliall brace my arm ;
** This fl:roke to death fliall fend thee."
ft
But that, and many well-aim'd blow.
The gen'rous baron warded ;
Yet, loth to hurt his true love's friend,
Himfelf he only guarded.
Till, mad at being thus abus'd,
A furious pafs he darted,
That pierc'd the brain of bold M' Vane,
. Who with a groan departed.
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52
" Curfe on my fkill, what have I done !
" Rafli man !~-but thou would'ft have it 5
•* Thou'ft forc'd a friend to take thy life,
" Who would have bled to fave it.
■ * Oh ! woe's my heart for this fad deed !
" Yet now it can't be mended :
*' Our happinefs, that feem'd fo nigh,
*' By one rafh fl:roke,IVe ended.
'* An exile now, in fome ftrange land,
" To fly, I know not whither ;
" Nor dare I fee my lovely Ann,
" Since I have flain her brother/'
Then calling round his mournful eyes.
To fee if none were nigh him,
There he beheld the young Glengyle,
Who like the wind came flying.
'* I come too late to flop the fl:rife ;
" But flnce thou art victorious
** ril be reveng'd, or lofe my life ;
** Mine honour bids, nic do this."
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53
** I know thy brav'ry, young Glengyle:
" Of life tho' Tm regardlefs,
*' Why am I forc'd my friends to kill ?
'' There bold M'Vane lies breathlefs/'
*^ Does this become fo brave a knight ?
" Does blood fo much affright thee ?
'* Glengyle will not difgracc thy fword j
'' Unfheath it then, and fight me,"
" Unhappy lad ! put up thy blade ;
** Tempt me no more, I pray thee ;
** This fword that pierc'd the fquire rude,
** Soon low in duft will lay thee.**
Again with young Glengyle he clos'd,
Refolved not to harm him ;
Three times with gentle wounds him pierc'd,
Yet never could difarm him,
'* A'^ield up thy fword to me, Glengyle ;
** On what's our quarrel grounded ?
*' I could have pierc'd thy dauntlefs heart
*' E^ch time I have thee wounded.
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• * 54 •
^' And if thou thinkeft me to flay,
/' In faith thou art miftaken ;
" Yet if you fcorn to yield your fword,
" In pieces ftraight we'll break them/*
While talking thus, he qiyt his guard i
Glen^yle in hafte. advancing, .
Then pierc'd his gen'rous manly bread,
The fword behind him glancing.
Then down he fell, and cri'd " Tm fl^n j
" Adieu .to all things earthly :
** Adieu, Glengyle, the day's thy ain ;
" But thou haft gain'd it bafely,"
When tidings came to Lady Ann,
Time after time fhe fainted ;
Then ran, and kifs'd their clay cold lips.
And thus their fate lamented :
" lUuftrous, brave, but haplefs men !
" This horrid fight doth move me !
" My deareft friends rolPd in their blood,
*' The men that beft did love me !
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55
*^ For thee, the guardi^i of my youth!
'' My dear, my only brother ;
*' For this thy fad untimely death
" ril mourn till life be over,
" O brave Sir Niel, how art thou fa'en I
** How withered in thy bloffom !
" No more I'll love the treacherous man
*' That pierc'd my hero's bofom.
** A kind and faithful heart was thine i
^' Thy friendfhip was abufed ;
** A braver man ne'er fac'd a foe,
" Had'fl.thou been fairly ufed.
** For thee a maid I'll live and die,
" Glengyle fliaU ne'er efpoufe me ;
*^ And for the fpace of fev'n long years
" The dowie black fhall AaH clothe me,"
H
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r,6
SONG L
Tune — ^TusHiLAws Lines,
mtf^
*XWAS up yon wild an' lonely glexx^
Befet wi' mony lofty mountain,
Far frae the bufy haunts o' men,
Ae day that I gaed out a huntin' ;
It was a happy day to pie,
A day that fixt my rovin' fancy ;
For herdin' lambs on yonder ley.
There firft I faw my lovely Nancy,
Sae br^w a lafs amang the fells.
Drew me frae aff the brae to view her,
Her hat was fet wi' heather bells.
Her yello^Y hair hang round ilk fhoulder.
Her gown was white, her coatie green,
Her fliape was handfome, tall, an' flender.
Her downcaft look and glitt'ring eeu,
Firm fixt my heart nae mair to wander.
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'^1
Gobde'eii to you, my lovely maid,
Why ftray yoti here aixiang the heather ?
My father's gaerl frae hame, ftie faid,
An' I maun wear his lambs thegither.
But, bonny lafs, if ye'U be mine.
An' fleep wi' me in bed o' feather, '
In filk an' fcarlet yoii fhall fliiiie,
An' leave the muir amang the heather.
Kind Sir, ye offer very fair,
Tho' weel I ken 'tis but in laughter •
I ken ye are a rich fquire's heir.
While I'm a hatnely fhepherd^s daughter.
But I hae travell'd fair aWa,
I've been dt London an' Bewhither j
But the the bonni'fl lafs that e'er I faw,
I've met wi' here amang the heather.
Nae ifnair d' that, dear Sir, fhe faid,
Sic tales will a deceiver prove ye ;
Yet had ye been a fliepherd lad,
"Wi' a' my heart then I could love ye.
Hae thoii nae fears ; I'll gie my hand
Nane fe'er for likin' me Ihall fcance ye ;
I'll fet your father a' my land.
An' herd his ev/es, but I'll hae Nancy.
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58
Young man, Fve heard my father fay,
Your focks wad frae fufpicion fcreen ye ;
I'm fear'd ye Ileal my heart away^
An' then I better ne'er had feen ye,
What tho' I (houid, my lovely lafs,
I vow y Ve flolen mine already ;
An' e'er that this day month fhall pafs,
If ye'il confcnt, ye's be a lady.
, My love can read, an' write, an* ling.
An' fliape an' few as weel as ony ;
An' dance the round amid the ring,
Wi' finer air an' grace than mony.
Tho' I'm my father's heir to a',
I ken he'll never crofs niy fancy ;
For a' the beauties e'er he faw
Cbme fer fer fhort o' my fweet Nancy^
Adieu, ye mafquerades an' balls ;
Tho' my love's nouther rich nor gaudy.
She's lovlier wi' Tier heather bells
Than ony powder'd painted lady. ^
In her I>e found what long I've fought ;
Wi' her Til live at hame contentit ;
Nie mair I'll change, or value aught
Save her whae a' my fears has ended.
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SONG IL
Shepherd, the weather is mifly and changing,
Will you fhew me over the hills to Traquair ?
1 will, gentle flranger, but where are you ranging ?
So brifk a young gentleman walking is rare,
I came to the Foreft to fee the fine lafles.
And fing wi' the fhepherds on ilka green hill ;
And now I am leaving this modern FarnafTus,
Of ilka thing in it I have got my fill.
I fear y'U hae left fome fair lafles a moaning ;
As lovely a youth in my life I ne'er faw,
Your een are like diamonds, your hair Hke the gowan,
I wifli you an' them may hae keepit the lav/.
But pray, gentle fhepherd, have you got a wife yet ?
Or are you a bachelor, tell me the truth ?
For if you are fingle, you'll have a fweet life o't.
Of bloomin' ypung lafles you have fic a routh.
I
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i^m llngle ; yet all the fair maids in the forett
I liiind little mair than the leaves on yon tree;
Save one pretty creature, to whom I am prbmis'd
In marriage, as iboii as riiy flock is got free :
She's yoiing and Ihe's witty> fhe's lovely an' pretty.
She's chafle as the fwans upon Lochfell at Yule ;
She's conftant and true, and fhe'U foon noake tne
happy ;
I've lov'd her fince ever we were at the fchooL
d Shepherd, you'r foolifh to bind to k woihan ;
My life for't ye'U rue that ye tether'd fae foon |
And if flie be conftant, 'tis very uncommon,
There's fcarcely another lives under the moon.
For me, I'm defign'd iie'er to yoke with a marrow^
But court ilka fair maid thdt comes in my way ;
This very laft fummer, in Ettrick and Yarrow,
I've lien befide twenty^ who ne'.er faid me nay j
But the fondeft young laflie that ever I fpoke wi';
She lives wi' her mother, an' nae mae ava.
Ae night I gaed to her, an', O I was lucky ;
. For that very night the auld wife was awa.
She made up a bed, an' flie bade me gang wi' her;
I got all I aiked without e'er a frown ;
She kifs'd me an' blefs'd me, an', ere I came fraei her,
^She promis'd to fee me this winter in town.
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Where dwells this fond laiEe ? you may tell me freely ;
What wa? it they ca'd ter ? what age did fhe fcem ?
^he lives upon Tyma, her name it is Jeanie,
A tall h^ndfome laffie about ftventeea.
Now curfes Ught qn th^e, an' him that begat thee,
An' all thy anpeflors, thou limb of the de'il ;
Thou, wolf, thou dellroyer, thou villain, have at thee^^
For that was the laffie that I lov'd fae weel.
fiiephefd, O fhepherd! I pray thee forgie me ;
For tho' Tv^ wronged thee, 'tw^ more than I
knew ;
Yet wed her, forgie her, fhe's ay thy ain Jeanie ;
She'll pafs for a maiden wi' ony but you.
1 wed her ! — She'll pafs for a maiden! — Confoxmd
her!
Afpre I forgie her TU pit out her breath :
An' had I her here, for a vengeance upon her.
With this hiflel ftaff I wad finifli you baith.
O laddie, be canny, lie threats are unmanly ;
Your paffion, dear Jamie, has dazzled your een:
Confider, look round ye, and think what's come on ye;
Ye ken^na the looks nor the voice o' your Jean.
p Jeanie! dear J^nie! why did you thus teaze me?
I'll no be myfel' for this eight days an' mair :
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6i
But, come tdmy bofom, for, ere I forgie thee,
ril hae a' the kiffes ye're able to fpare.
O Jamie, I thought that your 'mind had been
cljangin' ;
'Tis twenty lang weeks fincc I faw you, an' twa;
Iwcnt to a neiber an' borrowed this cleathin' ;
An'-was-na aitiind ye fude ken me ava.
But come to my arms, wi* my plaidie TU fcreen ye;
My love is now double, tho' ay it was fair;
On the green banks o' Tyma I'll live with my Jeanie,
Tlie langer I kefi her Til love her the'mair.
Ornfnctkei, Jbcuhir^.., J ....
' FINIS.'
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